Fic: Masks (Harry/Draco)
Title: Masks
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: Adult
Summary: Keeping secrets is tiring
Word Count: 1365
Betas: florahart and heather11483
#10 of 10 for livelongnmarry auction winner heeroluva
Harry never thought he'd become so entangled in lies and half-truths, but there are a lot of things in his life now that he never expected. He's an Auror, so he's been trained at subterfuge, knows how to work undercover while wearing someone else's body until the potion wears off, is aware of the ways to keep anyone from knowing who he really is. When he was learning all that, he didn't think he'd eventually lose himself, but he did.
It's easy, really, to become someone else. He hates being The Harry Potter, after all, and the attention has been worse in the years since the war ended. There's no such thing as privacy if he goes anywhere in the wizarding world, and it's still impossible to even take a walk through Diagon Alley without being stopped at least a half dozen times. He hates shaking strangers' hands and being offered sundry babies to kiss and exclaim over is even worse, but nothing is quite as bad as finding himself being hugged, arms trapped, by someone he's never met. It's taken him years to reach a point where he feels comfortable giving physical affection to his best friends, so having anyone else touch him is enough to turn him into a virtual recluse.
There are benefits to being who he is, though, including access to an endless supply of Polyjuice. He can get it from work usually, nick a little here or there after a case, and, when he runs low, he can always whinge at Hermione, who understands his hatred of the public's overwhelming attention. She hates it, too, but reminds him, often, that she doesn't resort to skulking around in someone else's body to deal with it all. Of course, she never tells him how she does deal with it, and she also frequently spends entire days in parts of the Wizarding Library that no one else besides the archivist have seen since 1923, so it's easy to ignore her muttering.
When he first runs into Malfoy, Harry looks like a Spanish man in his late twenties. A Muggle tourist that he noticed while shopping one day. He likes hunting for faces, finding people that he can be for a couple of hours whenever he wants a chance to breathe. The Spaniard was handsome, which is what caught Harry's attention, and it seems that Malfoy thinks so, too, because he stares in a way that goes beyond casual interest. There's desire in his gaze, which flusters Harry so much that he leaves the pub earlier than anticipated.
He's used to being looked at, both as himself and as various others, but there's something about Malfoy's stare that gets under his skin. When he thinks that maybe it's because Malfoy has never looked at him the way he was looking at the Spaniard, he can't deny feeling a little jealous. Just a little. The fact that he does at all is enough to make him question his sanity. It's Malfoy. The rude bastard who still irritates him more than just about everyone else he knows.
Still, he finds himself back at the pub soon after leaving, and he approaches Malfoy, easily playing the part of a foreign wizard looking for a spot of fun. He doesn't expect Malfoy to do anything, figures Malfoy just likes to look but never touches, so he's shocked to find himself leaning against a stall in the loo with Malfoy's mouth around his cock soon after. It feels nice. Better than nice. And Harry doesn't have to worry about what people will say about him because no one knows. He's just a nameless tourist getting his cock sucked expertly by his childhood rival.
It's bloody amazing, especially when he comes all over Malfoy's face and watches his come drip from Malfoy's lips. The potion isn't going to last much longer, but he doesn't want to leave Malfoy like that, so he uses his hand, wanking him hard as he whispers to him in English with a heavy Spanish accent. He barely makes it back to his flat before the potion wears off, and he takes a shower because he feels like he did something dirty and extremely wrong.
It's not enough to keep him from seeking out Malfoy again. This time, he's wearing the body of a blond yank that he noticed on the tube. Good looking and muscular, it's a different type than the Spaniard, so he doesn't even know if Malfoy will be interested. He doesn't waste any time. Harry approaches him at the bar as soon as he finds him and starts to flirt, rather badly. He's not used to the odd American accent that drawls, but Malfoy seems to like it. There's more teasing than before, a relaxed flirtation that results in another trip to the loo. This time, Harry's sucking while wanking himself. Malfoy seems to like his hair, gripping it tightly while he moans and writhes against the wall.
When Harry gets home this time, he takes another shower and promises himself that he won't do it again.
He breaks the promise a few days later. It's impossible to resist the temptation to do it again. Malfoy's a whore, obviously, who will suck any man who offers and comes apart for any man who puts his mouth on his cock. That's not exactly true, though, because he's watched Malfoy as himself, and he's seen Malfoy reject man and woman alike, never showing even a slight interest compared to how he reacts to Harry. His reputation is impeccable, with nary a muttering of gossip about him enjoying a hard fuck in a pub's loo. If anything, people seem to think he's cold and asexual, which is bloody ridiculous. But it makes it more interesting, almost a challenge, and Harry's always loved challenges.
So it becomes a game, a way to alleviate the boredom when he's not working and feels restless. It's exciting, choosing a new face and hunting Malfoy, seducing him each time or allowing himself to be seduced, depending on how he feels, and gradually escalating from blow jobs and wanking to fucking in dark corners where anyone could catch them. There's never enough time with the Polyjuice to take it slow, to savor the experience and enjoy making Malfoy beg, but teasing is fun, too.
It's been months now, and Harry's lost track of how many different masks Malfoy has met and fucked. The guilt has been nagging at him more lately, especially since he's been working with Malfoy some at the Ministry, but he still can't stop. Hermione'd probably tell him that he was addicted or some nonsense like that, so he hasn't told her, and he certainly hasn't told Ron, despite his best friend knowing that he likes blokes as well as birds. There are just some things he can't tell Ron, and him shagging Malfoy for months as other men just happens to be one of those.
It's exhausting, having to keep it all a secret and remember that he doesn't know anything about Malfoy that was told to him under the guise of someone else. The biggest problem is that he likes Malfoy. Not fancying him or anything girly like that, but he sort of enjoys having a drink with him and talking about Quidditch and work and shite like that. There's also the sex, which is fucking brilliant.
Harry looks in the mirror and sighs. It's so easy to be someone else that he can hardly remember what it's like to be himself anymore. It's probably fucked up that he feels more like Harry when he's someone else than when he's not, but Malfoy has some strange way of making him feel normal regardless of what mask he's wearing. It's almost nine, so he knows he needs to leave soon if he wants to find Malfoy at the pub, but Harry's not sure what mask to wear.
There are a lot of choices, by hair color and nationality and attractiveness, but he's not sure which one is right for tonight. After thinking about it for awhile longer, he turns and leaves before he can have second thoughts. It's rash and impulsive, but, really, that's what started all this, so he's not too concerned. There's a chance that it'll go horribly wrong, that he'll have to use a memory charm if it threats are made, but he's made his choice. Tonight, Malfoy's going to get him.
End
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: Adult
Summary: Keeping secrets is tiring
Word Count: 1365
Betas: florahart and heather11483
#10 of 10 for livelongnmarry auction winner heeroluva
Harry never thought he'd become so entangled in lies and half-truths, but there are a lot of things in his life now that he never expected. He's an Auror, so he's been trained at subterfuge, knows how to work undercover while wearing someone else's body until the potion wears off, is aware of the ways to keep anyone from knowing who he really is. When he was learning all that, he didn't think he'd eventually lose himself, but he did.
It's easy, really, to become someone else. He hates being The Harry Potter, after all, and the attention has been worse in the years since the war ended. There's no such thing as privacy if he goes anywhere in the wizarding world, and it's still impossible to even take a walk through Diagon Alley without being stopped at least a half dozen times. He hates shaking strangers' hands and being offered sundry babies to kiss and exclaim over is even worse, but nothing is quite as bad as finding himself being hugged, arms trapped, by someone he's never met. It's taken him years to reach a point where he feels comfortable giving physical affection to his best friends, so having anyone else touch him is enough to turn him into a virtual recluse.
There are benefits to being who he is, though, including access to an endless supply of Polyjuice. He can get it from work usually, nick a little here or there after a case, and, when he runs low, he can always whinge at Hermione, who understands his hatred of the public's overwhelming attention. She hates it, too, but reminds him, often, that she doesn't resort to skulking around in someone else's body to deal with it all. Of course, she never tells him how she does deal with it, and she also frequently spends entire days in parts of the Wizarding Library that no one else besides the archivist have seen since 1923, so it's easy to ignore her muttering.
When he first runs into Malfoy, Harry looks like a Spanish man in his late twenties. A Muggle tourist that he noticed while shopping one day. He likes hunting for faces, finding people that he can be for a couple of hours whenever he wants a chance to breathe. The Spaniard was handsome, which is what caught Harry's attention, and it seems that Malfoy thinks so, too, because he stares in a way that goes beyond casual interest. There's desire in his gaze, which flusters Harry so much that he leaves the pub earlier than anticipated.
He's used to being looked at, both as himself and as various others, but there's something about Malfoy's stare that gets under his skin. When he thinks that maybe it's because Malfoy has never looked at him the way he was looking at the Spaniard, he can't deny feeling a little jealous. Just a little. The fact that he does at all is enough to make him question his sanity. It's Malfoy. The rude bastard who still irritates him more than just about everyone else he knows.
Still, he finds himself back at the pub soon after leaving, and he approaches Malfoy, easily playing the part of a foreign wizard looking for a spot of fun. He doesn't expect Malfoy to do anything, figures Malfoy just likes to look but never touches, so he's shocked to find himself leaning against a stall in the loo with Malfoy's mouth around his cock soon after. It feels nice. Better than nice. And Harry doesn't have to worry about what people will say about him because no one knows. He's just a nameless tourist getting his cock sucked expertly by his childhood rival.
It's bloody amazing, especially when he comes all over Malfoy's face and watches his come drip from Malfoy's lips. The potion isn't going to last much longer, but he doesn't want to leave Malfoy like that, so he uses his hand, wanking him hard as he whispers to him in English with a heavy Spanish accent. He barely makes it back to his flat before the potion wears off, and he takes a shower because he feels like he did something dirty and extremely wrong.
It's not enough to keep him from seeking out Malfoy again. This time, he's wearing the body of a blond yank that he noticed on the tube. Good looking and muscular, it's a different type than the Spaniard, so he doesn't even know if Malfoy will be interested. He doesn't waste any time. Harry approaches him at the bar as soon as he finds him and starts to flirt, rather badly. He's not used to the odd American accent that drawls, but Malfoy seems to like it. There's more teasing than before, a relaxed flirtation that results in another trip to the loo. This time, Harry's sucking while wanking himself. Malfoy seems to like his hair, gripping it tightly while he moans and writhes against the wall.
When Harry gets home this time, he takes another shower and promises himself that he won't do it again.
He breaks the promise a few days later. It's impossible to resist the temptation to do it again. Malfoy's a whore, obviously, who will suck any man who offers and comes apart for any man who puts his mouth on his cock. That's not exactly true, though, because he's watched Malfoy as himself, and he's seen Malfoy reject man and woman alike, never showing even a slight interest compared to how he reacts to Harry. His reputation is impeccable, with nary a muttering of gossip about him enjoying a hard fuck in a pub's loo. If anything, people seem to think he's cold and asexual, which is bloody ridiculous. But it makes it more interesting, almost a challenge, and Harry's always loved challenges.
So it becomes a game, a way to alleviate the boredom when he's not working and feels restless. It's exciting, choosing a new face and hunting Malfoy, seducing him each time or allowing himself to be seduced, depending on how he feels, and gradually escalating from blow jobs and wanking to fucking in dark corners where anyone could catch them. There's never enough time with the Polyjuice to take it slow, to savor the experience and enjoy making Malfoy beg, but teasing is fun, too.
It's been months now, and Harry's lost track of how many different masks Malfoy has met and fucked. The guilt has been nagging at him more lately, especially since he's been working with Malfoy some at the Ministry, but he still can't stop. Hermione'd probably tell him that he was addicted or some nonsense like that, so he hasn't told her, and he certainly hasn't told Ron, despite his best friend knowing that he likes blokes as well as birds. There are just some things he can't tell Ron, and him shagging Malfoy for months as other men just happens to be one of those.
It's exhausting, having to keep it all a secret and remember that he doesn't know anything about Malfoy that was told to him under the guise of someone else. The biggest problem is that he likes Malfoy. Not fancying him or anything girly like that, but he sort of enjoys having a drink with him and talking about Quidditch and work and shite like that. There's also the sex, which is fucking brilliant.
Harry looks in the mirror and sighs. It's so easy to be someone else that he can hardly remember what it's like to be himself anymore. It's probably fucked up that he feels more like Harry when he's someone else than when he's not, but Malfoy has some strange way of making him feel normal regardless of what mask he's wearing. It's almost nine, so he knows he needs to leave soon if he wants to find Malfoy at the pub, but Harry's not sure what mask to wear.
There are a lot of choices, by hair color and nationality and attractiveness, but he's not sure which one is right for tonight. After thinking about it for awhile longer, he turns and leaves before he can have second thoughts. It's rash and impulsive, but, really, that's what started all this, so he's not too concerned. There's a chance that it'll go horribly wrong, that he'll have to use a memory charm if it threats are made, but he's made his choice. Tonight, Malfoy's going to get him.
End